At The End Of The Road
by Greentreetall
Summary: I'm going to die. A hand wraps around my throat, gripping around my shoulder from behind, they wrap one white hand around my mouth and the other on top of my head. I feel their face beside mine, a cheek sliding along mine; they smile as they pull me down with them, the scream escaping, nothing but air. OOC, AU, Cannon, rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

_**All characters belong to S.M**_

_**All mistakes are my own.**_

_What's a king to a god?_

_What's a god to a non-believer_

_Who don't believe in anything?_

_No Church In The Wild –Jay-Z_

* * *

The sign blurs as we speed by it.

**No Exit. **

I look over to my left and I wonder, does she think of the same things as I do? Does she wonder if this was what was meant for her life? Is_ this_ it?

Does she look out her window at night, just as I did, and wonder if this is what was planned for her? Did she know that she would never see the world like she planned so many times in those years where nothing mattered but the beat from the music that poured from that hand-me down record player? That she would never discover what she only read of in those stories? And those things she dreamed of? Did she know they would only ever be dreams? Does she ever wonder if all she'll ever be is ordinary?

I twist my hands in my lap as I think: does she look at me and remember of all the things she could have had?

I wonder, is that was drove her?

Or was it the simple act of greed that decided my fate.

Did she want something more then what was promised to her? Or did she wish for what she had.

My mother and I have never gotten along. Our morals never matching up and our hugs always distant. A silk covered knife. I always believe it was never intentional; the hurt we delivered. You never intentionally hurt someone you love.

But once you hurt someone, you can never take it back.

The headlights flash across the narrow dirt road. The years of temperature change tearing apart the well-packed ground. The colours bleed as we pass, the trees swaying with the hungry wind.

She presses her lips together but doesn't turn towards me. Doesn't comfort me.

I look away from her face. The features burned into my brain.

I never believed the legends. The tales that were told around the fire each summer, the ways the boys would wave their hands, and how they dropped their voices to match the pitch of the character they played. But as my fate intertwines with those of the stories, I have to wonder if they were scared for what lay at the end of the road.

"Bella?" her voice sounds faraway. "What we are doing is right, you know?"

She asks as if the question has any other answer then the one she wants.

I want to scream at her as she talks about how "we" are doing something of great honour. Of how "we" are blessed that they choose "us" but I say nothing, no words invented to tell her how the delusions are getting worse each day.

I remember the day it started, when she stopped her painting and looked over at me on the small window seat in our sunroom. She smiled something of nothing but malice then looked back at her canvas.

A girl, no more than nineteen sat at the edge of the lake, she face clear of line, the emotion missing from the set of her lips. She started out at the black water, watching as they walked towards her.

"It can't be me" she whispered, her finger running along the painted girl's cheek. "no lines, too young" her laugh was angry as she looked at me "my little doe, soon you will be just like them. We have been chosen." She dropped her paint brush then, never looking to see the brown paint that splattered up her jean clad legs.

"Bella, look at me" she demands.

The stars wink at me, they know what is at the end of this road, they've seen desperate mothers just like mine take their daughters down to the lake. They've been the only witness to it all.

"Bella" her voice whips out, slapping against my cheek.

I pull my eyes away from the window to look into her deep brown ones, the lines that have grown along her face age her more in the moonlight.

"They won't tolerate disobedience" she snaps, her eyes, the ones she gave me, narrow as she looks over my face. "Unzip that hideous thing" she waves a hand towards the sweater that hangs around my body "you gotta get them interested somehow."

"Showing tits isn't going to get them interested, Mother, the fact that I'm human is enough to get them hard" I roll my eyes, never touching the zipper that lays against my throat.

"Isabella" she snaps, her foot hitting the break. The tires squeal as my body jerks forward, the car fishtailing under the sudden pressure. "This is an honour" she hisses, her body turned to face mine, crimson filling her face as blood rushes through the veins protruding from her forehead. "I will not have you embarrassing me in front of them." Her hands shoots forward, her fingers wrapping my chin and jerking my face towards hers. "You will regret it, do you understand" her fingernails press against the flesh of my jaw, the pointed edges digging into my skin. "Do you?" she demands, her hand tightening more.

"Yes" I whisper, my jaw set against the bite of her hand.

"Yes?" she whispers along with me, her eyes crazed.

"Yes, Mother."

She smiles then, her grip slackening, "my little doe, you will see, they will make everything better for us."

"Yes, Mother."

She pulls her hand away from me and looks at the clock on the dash. "Oh no" she frowns "we're late." She turns the key and the car rumbles back to life.

I turn away from her and look out the window again, my fingers running along my trembling jaw. I close my eyes against the tears that burn my lids and press my lips against the whimper that grows in my throat.

_xxx_

My town rests along the lake. A body of water so tiny it was never named anything. We have a post office that also plays the part of barber shop and police station. The general store, the only place to buy food for at least twenty miles also houses the one and only clothing store, along with the outdoor sporting goods. Both public and high school resides in one building with the library one of the old classrooms. There is no taxi service, and the only diner sells nothing but corn bread and salted fish.

My mother came here to study the wildlife that lived in the forests that housed the town. She was born in the city. A place she used to paint before _they _gave her the vision of me at the lake.

I was born to only a mother, my father a man who couldn't handle the responsibility of a tiny newborn. He packed up and fled town as soon my mom stared to show.

I know she blames him for what he did, just as much as she blames me for being the cause of his leaving.

Some days I think she's never really forgiven me.

His face is carved into the stone in the middle of town. His father rests his hand on his shoulder, while his mother stands behind him, her sweet smile looking down at her son.

They are beautiful. Their smiles blinding even with the dull granite.

Tourist takes pictures with them. The girls standing on their toes to peck the young man's cheek, the wives secretly swooning over the father, and the husbands hungering over the mother.

The gold plated inscription tells the outsider of the royal family, and how they founded our tiny town, but those who live here, those who have grown up here, know the stories of the beautiful beings that stand in town square.

Mother started to talk of how they came to her in her time of need after the painting. The thought of three beautiful life forms standing in our faded yellow kitchen feeding my moms bruised ego makes my head hurt.

They spoke of hope, and of truth she says. How they would give her the life she deserved and all she would have to do was give something in return.

In my head my mom as a loving woman, someone who would give anything to give their child happiness. But in reality my mother is a person filled with the greed they fed to her. I can see it every time she spoke of them. How she longed to feel the promises flow over her skin like water, to make them so real she could lay with them.

They told her they would send a sign, and she would know.

The day she painted me at the lake was the day she began to count the days till my ninetieth birthday.

She told me that they had finally chosen us. They would finally fulfill their promise to her.

And she would fulfil hers.

The price: me.

And she had no problem paying.

_xxx_

The road widens as she pulls to a stop. The trees surround us, closing us in, only breaking at the far side of the road, a small path leading away and into the woods. Pulling out the keys, she turns to me and smiles "Everything will be okay" she unbuckles her seat belt and pushes the door open.

I stay where I am, absorbing the last of my freedom. Taking it in and sorting it away for a day when I need to remember the feeling. It will be gone as soon as we reach the lake.

"Don't make them wait" says Mother as she leans through the open door to glare at me. "They can only show so much mercy."

The internal scoff that fills my body doesn't fall silent to her ears and her eyes narrow even more. "You are lucky that soon it will not be by my hand you are punished."

"For some reason I don't believe that makes me lucky, Mother."

She smiles then, the same smile she's worn since the day in the sunroom "you will learn how wrong you can be soon" then she's gone, walking away from the car and towards the path, the car door hanging open and the keys swaying in the wind that whips through the cab.

I breathe through my nose, pulling the air deep into my lungs before slowly letting it out.

For a moment, I think of running. Of how easy it would be to throw open the door and push my legs down the road. I think of how I would move away from our town, away from the people, away from Mother, away from the lake. I think of going to the city and finding my father, of how he would welcome me with arms filled with only love for the daughter he never met. I think of putting my mother's agreements behind me, forgetting all of the things she has promised of me, and leaving the place where I have already lived my life of freedom. I think of cutting those ties I never knew existed until the painting and ignoring he responsibilities Mother has besotted on me.

But those thoughts leave me empty, remembering that she would find me, _they _would find me. Running away would only succeed in making him angrier. Lost in the despair that fills my head I push open the door and follow the now echoing steps of my mother.

_xxx_

Night fills the cracks between the trees, casting screaming shadows along the packed dirt path I walk. I can see the breaking where the forest cuts away and the sand of the lake begins. Star light reflects off the glass like surface, casting hundred of diamonds along the water. The white globe of the moon shimmers against the black lake the body shifting as the waves move through the water.

From the edge of the forest I can see the other side of the lake. The towering trees arch over the black lips of the loch casting pained faces along the ripples that lap along the dry land.

Mother stands at the edge of the sand, her toes just out of reach from the reaching waters. She looks over her shoulder as I make my way down the slope and into the sanded beach. "They're waiting" she smiles at me before looking back out over the lake.

I step out of my sandals, moving my toes in the sand.

"Over there" she points to a part of land still lush with green grass, slightly raised away from the water. "Sit there, and put your feet in, Doe, just like the painting."

"Yes, Mother" I whisper and walk away from her. Lowering myself to the ground I pull my feet to the edge and drop them in.

The water is cold, the summer warmth gone along with the green of the leaves. My skin tightens as the icy lake wraps fingers around my ankles and jerks them farther into the water, holding them there.

My throat burns as I look towards my mother, my eyes wide as I look down at the white watered hands hold my legs down.

"I have fulfilled my part" yells Mother, her eyes closed and her face titled towards the sky "now give me what you have promised!"

Light flashes, filling the clearing with colour. I close my eyes against the burn and turn my face away. I jerk my legs trying to free myself as I pull away from the water.

I can hear my mom scream, her joys turning from happiness to pain as she is given what they think she deserves. Her cries fill the spaces in my head, vibrating against my skull.

"Stop!" she shrieks, "please! Stop!" but they don't and she continues to cry out to the heavens as her faith takes over her body.

The frozen hands tighten around my ankles and I cry out. My fingers dig into the soft ground around me as they pull me forwards.

"No!" I yelp, kicking my legs out but hitting nothing.

The lights dance along my lids as I pull away from the water. The fingers give a final jerk and my hands slip through the muddied ground.

The water slaps against my face, the bitter lake wrapping around my body and tugging me away from the surface. Water rushes into my body, forcing its way through my mouth and up my nose filling my lungs. I kick my legs but they're heavy with the cold, my arms weak against my sides. My eyes are filmed over, hazy, the lack of oxygen blackening the edges of my vision.

Everything feels slow, filled with marble, making me sink to the bottom and away from the light above the lake.

Pain constricts my chest, pressing against my lungs as I fall farther away from the surface.

I'm going to die.

A hand wraps around my throat, gripping my shoulder from behind, they wrap a white hand around my mouth and the other on top of my head.

I feel their face beside mine, a cheek sliding along mine; they smile as they pull me down with them.

* * *

**A/N: Hello to all of you! **

**I know that I haven't updated **_**Daywalkers **_**in sometimes but I promise I am working on it along with **_**The Moon Glows Red. **_**I haven't forgotton about them, I swear!**

**As all my stories, this one is based on reviews. **

**Like it, review it. **

**Massive Hugs to all. **


	2. Chapter 2

**S.M owns the characters.**

**All mistakes are my own.**

_Under The Water –The Pretty Reckless_

_And all my friends are enemies_

_And if I cried unto my mother_

_No she wasn't there, she wasn't there for me._

_Don't let the water drag you down_

* * *

Dying is never simple.

Never cut and dry for the person you're leaving behind.

There is the money they need to settle, and the estates that need to be squared. There are the possessions that need to be sold and the will that needs to be read. There is the funeral that needs to arranged, the body that needs to prepared, and the priest that needs to be paid. The memorial service is to be held and all the mourners are to come and give their condolences, all hoping to get a glimpse of that body before its put in the ground forever.

There are the relatives you never knew but somehow know you, and the siblings that you hate all sharing one house as if the fact that someone just died is the only reason to share the same air as them.

There are the awkward hugs and the faked tears, and by the end you just wish it was over.

No, death is never simple.

I wonder if there will be a funeral for me, with no body to bury, I imagine it being quite quick. Not many people would show up, and no one would say anything.

I can picture the silence.

I wonder if my father would be notified, and Mother's body found.

I wonder what they would think of her clawed face, and burned eyes. Would they know that she was greedy, that she asked too much of something she didn't understand. Would they look at the lake's edge and cringe at the drag marks I left behind.

Would they weep for me, holding hands around the statue and questioning why it was I that they took? Would they mourn my passing, as they mourn a treasure lost? Would they light a candle at night for my soul to see till they believe I'm at peace?

Who would come and claim the things we left behind? With no family left to speak of I think the town would give it to someone who needs it. We didn't own much, but I imagine that whoever claims our house won't be as disappointed as they could be. I fancy they wouldn't change very much about it, although I think they would take down the three pictures of me and Mother that once hung on the wall above the fire place, storing them in the attic just as Mother did with the ones of her and Father.

I want to believe we will be remembered, for a little while at least. That is, until the next mother and daughter die at the lake, and then we would fade just as the others did. We will become nothing but a faint memory, something that lingers at the back of your thoughts, just out of reach, but no matter how hard you try to remember you never can. We would be gone, decomposing in their minds just as our bodies are doing in the ground.

And they'll start their conversations with: "what was the name of that girl who went missing?" and "do you remember when they found the mother's body, what year was that?"

And they will never know that I didn't die that day.

_xxx_

The water presses against my skin, thousands of stone knives dragging over my flesh, pulling away the warmth that once laced my body. The fear that consumes my body is so thick my stomach contracts and I fight the vomit that fills my throat. Pain beats at my lungs as they begin to shrivel, the lack of oxygen taking its toll on my body until lights dance along my vision.

My legs feel leaden, heavy and broken as I try and remember how to work them. My arms hang limply at my sides as they drag me further away from the surface.

They draw their fingers along my throat, their nails digging against my skin. I twist my face away from them but everything is slow, and shattered, my movements nothing but in my head.

I feel their chest rumble behind me as my vision greys.

They stroke my neck again but I feel nothing, and I see nothing.

And everything is gone.

And there is nothing but darkness.

_xxx_

I am not alone.

People move around me.

Their feet sounding against the tiled floor, they weave around my motionless skin.

And there are voices.

Hushed and muffled they echo through my ears.

My head pounds, my heart beat thumping against my eyes.

I lay on top of something cold, my fingers numb and pressed against the metal under my body.

"She's awake" I feel a smooth hand rub along my temple.

Someone claps their hands and the voices surround me.

"Open your eyes, love" says the same woman, her voice soft above my head.

I fight the burn that fills my throat and groan as my limbs begin to throb with my pulse.

"That's good, just come back slowly, there's no need to rush."

Someone scoffs somewhere in the room and I hear someone turn towards the sounds, their shoes squeaking on the floor. "Hush or you'll be escorted out" says the woman above me.

"That a threat?" snorts the other voice.

"A promise."

"I'd like to see you actually follow through with it" they snap back and the woman above me sighs.

"Enough of this, I am too busy to deal with your attitude today, Brianna, if you do not feel the need to be here when she opens her eyes, so be it, but do not ruin it for the rest of the ladies. I assure you, if you leave, you won't be missed, so don't let that influence your decision."

Some of the people around me stifle laughter.

"You dare talk to me that way?" Brianna retorts, her voice a hiss.

"I will speak to you anyway I please, now if you will excuse me" they turn back towards me.

"When he finds out, you are going to be severely punished" warns Brianna.

"He would no more listen to your whining then I will, now go."

I hear a huff and the stomp of feet before something hisses and the noise fades.

"She's not hiding it very well" someone mutters.

"She is jealous" says the woman above me "she had hoped he would choose her."

"Thank fucking God he didn't" scoffs someone else causing the people around me to mutter.

The woman above me snorts "Rosalie, how nice of you to show up."

"How long" asks Rosalie.

"Six hours."

"Long time" drawls Rosalie.

"Normal" corrects the other.

"He's growing restless."

"He'll wait."

"Unhappily" grumbles Rosalie.

"Not my concern."

"You only say that because you don't have to deal with his fits, Esme" chuckles Rosalie.

"I birthed him; I don't need to do anymore then that."

"Some of us don't have that excuse to use" mutters Rosalie.

"Give it time" mumbles Esme as her hand runs along my cheek again.

"The last thing I need is stretch marks" says Rosalie on the other side of me.

"You'll feel differently soon" says Esme, her hand never stopping on my face.

"I haven't felt it yet" exhales Rosalie.

"It's only been four months" says Esme.

"But it was supposed to be instantaneous."

"For us, yes, but you my dear, are not from here." Rosalie sighs and my throat closes. "No one can predict how your body will react to his, we only know that it will" she comforts the other woman.

"I know" she mumbles.

"It will happen" Esme soothes.

"He's my mate, we shouldn't have to wait" Rosalie groans.

Esme's hand stops on my face "I'm sorry, Ladies, but I must ask you to leave" she says to the room.

People groan but comply.

Their voices hushed, they whisper congratulations before exiting.

"You didn't need to do that" mutters Rosalie.

"Nonsense, beside we don't need gossip spreading around because someone doesn't know how to mind their own business."

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful" sighs Rosalie as she drags a chair to sit on beside me.

"It is understandable" says Esme.

"I just want that connection."

"Even with the side effects?" Esme teases and Rosalie laughs, her hand falling onto my arm.

Silence fills the room as they sit alongside me.

"Have you spoken to the others?" Rosalie is the first to break it.

"They have been informed" whispers Esme.

"And her mother?"

"The body was disposed of" my stomach lurches and I turn my head away from her voice. "I'm sorry, Sweet" her hand pushes back my hair.

I shake my head against the thoughts.

Against the sound of her screams, and the way she tore at her skin.

Against the fact that she gave me to them freely and that she doesn't deserve to be mourned.

I press my lips together but the tears leak nonetheless.

_xxx_

Esme and Rosalie only stay until they realize my eyes weren't going to open.

They sigh, their breath rustling the hair that dried along my scalp.

Their hands brush against my skin before they stand and the hiss sounds again.

And I'm alone.

Breathing through my nose I push away the pain that chews against my heart and press my lips together.

Opening my eyes I stare at a dim off-white ceiling. The plaster slightly cracked, the lines run along the surface in a swirl of patterns. Along the edge where the roof meets the walls, tiny jelly like lights sit, illuminating the room in cobalt light. I watch as they shiver in the cold air and the veins within hum with the light.

Turning away, I bring my hands to my face, my fingers running over the trails my tears left before they slide under my back and push to my torso up.

I groan as everything inside me swims, and my head tilts my world. I press my hand against my mouth and close my eyes against the nausea that threatens to fill my throat.

Bile coats my tongue as I swallow against the sick that churns inside my stomach and press my hand against my head, my elbow resting against my thigh.

Somewhere in the room I hear something hum softly. Lifting my face I turn to look behind me as the camera in the corner of the room follow my body movements.

I frown as it buzzes and the lens shifts to zoom in on my face.

Turning away I eye the medical room I'm in. The metal cabinets and sterile workbench, the lab coat that someone had thrown over the chair pressed against the wall across from the examination bed I lay on.

Behind me something hisses and footsteps fill the room.

I don't turn as the door hisses closed again and the person steps up behind me.

"You opened your eyes" says Esme.

"Obviously."

"I had hoped I would be here for it."

"We live in a world filled with disappointment" I say to the wall in front of me.

"Indeed" she says and steps up to sit on the stool beside me.

"How do you feel? No discomfort?"

"Just peachy."

Esme sighs beside me and lays a white hand on my arm. I fight the urge to jerk my arm away from that seasick hand "I know you must be angry and confused but you must understand—"

"Whoa" I turn towards her, holding my hand up to stop her, I ignore the fact that I have seen her face before in the town square "Let me stop your right there. 'I must understand'? What is there to understand exactly? That you kidnapped me and or that my mother fucking sold me? Is _that_ what _I must understand_?"

"I realize this must come as a shock to you—"

"Listen here, Lady, I don't know you, and you sure as fuck don't know me, so do us both a favour and not pretend like you know anything about me, 'kay?"

Esme's pale eyes follow mine as I glare at her. Her black hair is pulled away from her face in a number of braids all running along her back, the tips brushing the metal stool she sits upon. Sharp features like the statue, I watch as the purple veins swirl underneath her white skin along her jaw, the elaborate pattern twisting and dipping across her cheek bones.

Finally she nods and stands "I know this is hard, Isabella, truly, I know, but I am not your enemy, but a friend, and I hope someday you will come to think of me is such" I scoff and look away from her. Esme sighs and moves away from me "There is a change of clothes on the table; someone will come to collect you soon." She walks away from me and the door opens and closes, locking her footsteps out and mine in.

_xxx_

I stare at my hands for a long time, curling my fingers tightly as my lips tremble. My legs are weak, my knees shaking as I move them.

"Get up" I grit between my teeth, digging my nails into my temples. "You have to get up."

I grind my jaw as I push myself over the side of the table, my legs quivering as I step on the cold tile.

I'm not wearing my shoes anymore, and my sweatshirt is gone.

Pressing my palm against the table I move towards the chair. Tossing off the lab coat I find nothing underneath. Frowning I look at the white fabric on the floor and glare as I focus on the straps and backless of it.

"No" I shake my head "no fucking way."

Dropping my form back into the chair I cringe as my sore body hits the hard seat. I push away my hair as I stare at the floor, shaking my head and ignoring that my waterlogged clothes have dried and itch.

I look at the dress on the floor and grit my teeth.

No.

No.

No.

Fuck.

Itching at my stomach I stand and pull it over my head, keeping my back to the camera I grab the fabric from the ground and hold it up in front of me and glaring.

Unclasping my bra, I drop it to the floor and pull the halter neck around my head, tying the straps and dropping the skirt around my hips. Popping the button of my jeans, I push them down my legs, scrapping my nails along as I go, trying to relieve the itch that crawls along my skin.

Scowling at the skirt I notice a slit that starts at my calf and ends just above my knee. Folding my arms over my chest I look towards the camera and the door hisses open.

A large man walks over to me, his face hard as he takes my arm and pulls me with him. I watch the veins in his face, blue this time, dip in an angrier pattern then Esme's had and his jaw grinds.

The door shuts behind us and we move quickly through the metal halls. We twist so many times I know I will never remember how to get back to the medical room before we stop at a set of double doors. The man who holds my arm drops me like I burnt him before he opens the doors and steps to the side.

"Go" he growls deeply and his hand presses against the small of my back, forcing me to step over the threshold.

The doors close behind me loudly, the sound booming through the room and everyone turns to look at me. Thousands of pale eyes and veined faces stare at me and my throat tightens, my legs begin to shake and heat lines my brow.

The room is large, so big that sounds echo against the walls. I turn and my breath whooshing from my lungs as I stare through into through the walls and into the expanse of the bottom of the lake. Running my eyes along the glass dome, I notice it's bright down here, that I can see the details as the small fish swim around the building, like a natural light everything is bathed in a soft white glow.

"Isabella" says a voice beside me. I turn towards it and come face to face with a small woman. Her hair is a mess of layers, the straight lengths falling over her small shoulders and down her back. Her dress, although similar to mine is red, and has a back. I glare at it, my anger toward my own dress burning in my throat. Turning to meet her eye I sigh as I watch the lace like pattern of her veins flow over her jaw.

I nod towards her and she grabs my arm, pulling me between the tables closest to us and down on the first two free seats on one of the long wooden benches.

"I'm Alice" says the woman beside me and shakes my hand. I nod again.

"You already know my name" I say slowly watching the people around us turn to stare at me before turning away and looking towards the front of the dome.

"You come up in conversation a lot" she shrugs and picks at a spiky looking fruit in front of her.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing bad, I swear" she waves it off and begins to peel away the spikes before popping them into her mouth and humming.

"Oh, well, okay, that makes me feel _so _much better" I glare at the side of her head.

"Good" she smiles and grabs another spike off the fruit.

I purse my lips and look away from her.

The room is alive.

The people laughing, and chatting as they pick at their weird looking food. Within the faces I find few without the face pattern. Their eyes are on their food except for when the person beside them leans over and speaks in their ear. Then they look up at them, their eyes bright and they nod or shake their head, their lips pressed together to stop the smiles.

"There are humans here" I say quietly but Alice nods.

"A few. More now than a few years ago."

"What are we doing here?" I ask, my voice low.

"Well, most of the ones here are…with someone" she nods to a human male and a veined female, their hands clasped.

"Together?" I frown "they're dating?"

Alice shakes her head, her hand coming to rest on her mouth as she laughs. "No" she giggles. "They aren't 'dating'" I frown at her.

"I don't see how that's funny" I tap my fingers on the table.

"No" she says "I don't see how you would."

I wait, "Well?"

Alice sighs and folds her hands on the table "I do want to tell you, Isabella, and I wish I could, but I think it would be better if he told you" she twists her mouth.

"He? Who's 'he'?"

Alice opens her mouth, whether to tell me she can't say or to divulge the information, I don't know, and I never find out because when her mouth opens a voice booms through the room. So heavy and commanding even I turn to see who it came from.

On the far side sits a large table diagonal to all the horizontal tables before it. Covered in a gleaming white cloth sits five bodies. Immediately I know the man who spoke as the man in the town square, along with the Esme sitting tightly against his body.

Beside her a woman sits, her blonde hair braided as Esme's down her back. Even from where I sit I can see her eyes are a bright blue and there are no veins that cover her delicate skin. Beside her sits the hulking man that escorted me to the dome, his face is no longer as sharp and his hand rests on the woman's shoulder, his face dipped close to hers.

Beside the Hulk sits the boy from the square. Or he had been a boy when it was made, now sitting at the table there is nothing but a man, with his defined jaw and straight nose I run my gaze along the black veins that dip across his jaw, and for the first time I want to trace the strange trait they all have. Pulling my eyes from his skin I meet his pale eyes and I reel back away from his gaze. The fire that burns within them makes my hands sweat and I turn to stare at the curves of the wood-like table.

"My friends, thank you for coming!" booms the man beside Esme, his smile lighting the room from where he sits. The people around me cheer and clap as he waves to them. "It does without a doubt give me the greatest pleasure to acknowledge that my oldest son as begun the Mating" people scream around us and my back stiffens as Alice touches my hand.

"Do not be afraid" she whispers and I turn to look at her.

"What are you talking about?"

"And don't run" she whispers again, rushed this time.

My eyebrows raise and I open my mouth before a hand drops on my shoulder and it snaps closed again. My body jumps as the heat runs along my bare skin. They lean over me until their lips brush the back of my ear.

"My mate" he murmurs and his hands wrap around my arms and lift me up.

He turns me around to look into his eye and my body tenses when I meet the black veins of the man from town square.

I squeak as his hands run along my bare arms and growl rumbles in his chest. He leans down to me and whispers again "Are you scared?"

My eyes narrow and I shake my head "No" I growl.

He laughs then, a beautiful sound that lingers along my skin "You should be."

Then his teeth sink into my shoulder, his lips attaching to my skin and sucking.

Fear coils in my stomach as I press against his arms. My heart pounds a tattoo against my chest struggle to fear myself from him, my horror filling my throat and burning in my eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" I scream but no one says anything, no one even moves towards me.

He retracts his teeth as his tongue moves over my skin, soothing my burning skin until nothing but deep heat remains and my legs begin to shake.

"Mine" he snarls and bites me again.

This time I don't scream. It feels too good. And I'm pulled under.

Mine.

* * *

**a/n: hi ya'll!**

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**Massive hugs to all and peace. **


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